


Onboard

by WritLarge



Series: Armes Trek [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/pseuds/WritLarge
Summary: Eames visits Arthur at the station with a surprise or four on board.





	Onboard

“Come in, Arthur!” Eames called. That was a first. Usually, he greeted Arthur with a lot more... enthusiasm.

He’d received a message earlier asking him to meet Eames where his ship was docked. Arthur had been looking forward to the visit, a light at the end of a long stressful tunnel. Nash was relentlessly annoying and the rest of the staff were wary. Arthur was taking the brunt of their frustrations with the changes being implemented and the Commander was happy to let him. Still, things were improving. He hoped his work would be noticed, though Arthur was less concerned about fast-tracking his departure from the station than he had been when he’d arrived.

He stepped inside the well-kept cargo ship, looking for Eames. He’d only been there once before. When he found him, Arthur discovered why he’d gotten no greeting. A cat, and more than just one! There were two curled up with Eames, keeping him in place with the kind of localized gravity only a contented cat could generate. One was dozing alongside Eames’ leg while a second sprawled across his lap purring loudly as it was scratched under its chin. 

“Eames,” a flash of movement caught his eye and Arthur spotted a third cat perched by the kitchenette watching him curiously, “how many cats did you buy?”

“It was a rescue mission, darling. I took all that she had,” he said, ears twitching. “I certainly couldn’t leave them there. She’d had them long enough that she’d included their nutritional content in her sales pitch!” 

Eames looked at him pleadingly and Arthur’s insides went to mush. He doubted that he would’ve been able to resist rescuing them either, though thankfully Eames’ ship had a lot more room for them to roam than Arthur’s small quarters.

“I’ve counted three so far. Maybe a fourth?” He thought he’d seen a flash of tail from underneath the bench.

“Four, yes,” Eames nodded. Arthur wondered if he would have taken them all if there had been a dozen. At least four was manageable. “Any of them catch your fancy?”

“Are you sure you’re willing to part with one?” Arthur smirked and sat next to him, reaching over to pet the demanding short-hair. The cats seemed content in Eames’ company.

“Of course! I’d never have found them if not for you. They’ll visit, of course. They’d be lonely otherwise,” Eames pressed his nose shamelessly into Arthur’s neck, whiskers tickling his skin. “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“No,” Arthur leaned into him. “I wouldn’t want you to get lonely.” 

“Exactly.” Eames' tongue darted out to swipe at Arthur’s skin. He was very physically affectionate, being particularly keyed into taste, touch, and sound. He’d yet to comment on how Arthur looked. It was always how he smelled, how his skin tasted, the sounds that he made when... 

Arthur wrenched his thoughts back to the matter at hand, though he could already feel Eames’ knowing grin against his throat. 

“Um... these two already seem smitten with you.” The demanding cat in Eames lap was smokey grey with just a touch of ginger along its brow. On the other side of Eames, its possible sibling was the same, though without any sign of ginger in its coat.

“Agreed. The boys shall remain.”

“The other two are female? Are they fixed?” 

Eames’ brow wrinkled with distaste and he nodded. Good. He’d explained the differences in reproductive biology that domestic Terran cats had compared to Caitians but Eames still seemed squeamish over the idea. Arthur, on the other hand, had no qualms. He knew what a pain in the ass a cat in heat could be and toms on the prowl were no picnic either.

Curled atop the small table bolted to the wall was the largest cat, mostly black but mottled with grey, ginger, and a touch of white. Her eyes were a striking green.

“Isn’t she lovely?”

“Yeah.” Arthur reached out a hand and stroked along her back. “Her colouring is called tortoiseshell by the way.”

“Is tortoiseshell a breed?”

“No, it just describes the coat colours. These all look like generic short hair cats. No pretensions here.” Arthur had never really cared about breeds. A cat was a cat. Temperament was more important.

“Oh, excellent. They won’t be snobs about living aboard a cargo ship then.” Eames eyed Arthur. “She’s quite big, however. Too much for your quarters, perhaps?”

“Maybe.” Arthur was beginning to suspect that Eames had already chosen his cat for him. “Where’s the fourth?”

“Under the seat.”

Arthur slid off the bench and crouched down to find a small cat peeking out at him from the shadows. Even in the dim light, he could tell she was the runt of the litter.

“Come here, kitty,” Arthur made the tutting clicky sound that he’d always used when calling his cats. 

Cocking her head at him, the cat slowly inched forward to smell at Arthur’s fingers, allowing him to reach in and gently scoop her up. She was tiny and cute. She was also the exact same shade of ginger as Eames’ own fur. Arthur desperately tried to repress a grin, but Eames caught him out.

“Isn’t she perfect?” he said, grinning back.

“You’re terrible.” The cat pushed her head up into Arthur’s touch. She was adorable and he loved her immediately.

“Does she prefer to hide?”

“She does seem to be a great deal more sensitive to noise, which is why I think she would do better on the station, and ginger does suit you so.”

“I suppose it does,” he said. It was a colour that had cropped up in his dreams, and on his clothes, a lot more often since meeting Eames. Arthur had no complaints.

“Anything else I should know about?” 

“I’m not sure I’m the best judge. I’ve only had them a few days. They have proven extremely carnivorous and the seller provided me with a place for them to do their business.” While reading up Arthur had discovered that Caitians were mostly vegetarian, which had surprised him. These cats certainly wouldn’t be. “They are very keen on licking me, however.”

“They’re grooming you. Get used to that.”

“Oh, I didn’t say I minded,” Eames nuzzled the tom nose to nose. It was ridiculously cute and made Arthur was to bury his face in Eames’ fur. 

“You must miss your family.” Long stretches in space on trade runs were typical for cargo ships. Arthur suspected that the solitude grated on Eames given how readily he’d settled into Arthur’s quarters when he docked at the station, burrowing into Arthur’s bed and being extremely affectionate. Caitians were big on family, weren’t they?

“My sister used to travel with me and we’d never stay out from home long. She has children of her own now, however, and chooses to stay planetside instead of rambling about the quadrant,” Eames sighed. “Can’t blame her really.”

“Are they far?”

“Far enough.” The reply was wistful and a bit sad, but Eames’ mood turned easily. “You’ve got to pick a name for her now.”

“You haven’t picked out names?”

“Well, I may have some suggestions...” Good. Arthur had never been very inventive. He hated naming cats. 

“And?”

“For the boys, I thought S’Terl and Sh’arr. Hsurri for our grand lady there,” Eames gestured. 

“Sterl, Shar, and Surry? Is that right?” He was likely butchering the pronunciation.

“Close enough. I was trying to find names you could say with your accent. I saved the simplest suggestion for our little dear - Pria.” 

“Pria,” he repeated. It suited her. “I like it. Wait, what’s your actual name then? Eames doesn’t sound particularly Caitian.”

“It isn’t. I use it as a second name. It’s easier to have one mostly pronounceable by the species I encounter. My birth name is Rrorr.” 

Arthur attempted to replicate the sounds Eames had made, failing completely. 

“You’ve got to learn to roll your tongue.” Eames’ whiskers twitched and he rumbled a foreign sound at Arthur.

“I’ll work on it. By the way,” he poked a finger at Eames, “I want my shirt back.” 

One of his favourites had gone missing after their last visit, vanishing from where it had been left, sweaty and crumpled on the floor. Arthur had fought a blush for half a day when he’d figured out that Eames had taken it for the scent. 

“Of course, darling.” 

“You know,” Arthur leaned back against the wall, “before you go... we could just spend the night here in your bed.” Because soaking the sheets with their scent would be more fun than losing more of his wardrobe. Eames’ eyes darkened at the suggestion. 

“Arthur-” He would have been pounced on then if not for the presence of the cats.

“Maybe I should show Pria her new home though?” Eames growled and gently freed himself from S’Terl And Sh’arr, taking Pria from Arthur and setting her down to scurry back under the bench. “Or not?”

“Definitely not.” Eames pulled him into his arms, running his tongue up Arthur’s neck and working his hands under Arthur’s clothes. 

“Between you and Pria, I’m going to have ginger fur everywhere.” 

Eames’ hands caught the hem of Arthur’s shirt and pulled it over his head. “You love it or you wouldn’t have bought all those fancy brushes.”

His chuckle turned into a moan as the thick fur of Eames’ chest slid against his skin. God, it felt amazing.

“Oh, I do love your noises,” Eames laved at Arthur’s shoulder, eliciting a gasp. “We’d better take this to the cabin though. I don’t want to taunt the poor dears.”

Stumbling into Eames’ sleeping area, they shut the door to bar the cats. Eames was right. Arthur liked his fur to an embarrassing degree. The way it felt on his skin... he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to have sex with a human again without missing the sensation. 

“When’s your next shift start?”

“Not-” Arthur gasped as Eames’ tail curled up to brush along his inner thigh. “Not until after you leave.”

“Mmm. Plenty of time to muss the bed then,” Eames growled and pushed him down.


End file.
